Love Has To Be…flowering Like The Stars,

Love, How Many Roads To Obtain A Kiss.

I Don't Want To Go On Being A Root In The Dark, Vacillating, Stretched Out, Shivering With Sleep, Downward, In The Soaked Guts Of The Earth, Absorbing And Thinking, Eating Each Day.

Nobody Can Claim The Name Of Pedro, Nobody Is Rosa Or María, All Of Us Are Dust Or Sand, All Of Us Are Rain Under Rain. They Have Spoken To Me Of Venezuelas, Of Chiles And Paraguays; I Have No Idea What They Are Saying. I Know Only The Skin Of The Earth And I Know It Has No Name.

Hour Of Nostalgia, Hour Of Happiness, Hour Of Solitude.

About Me, Nothing Worse They Will Tell You, My Love, Than What I Told You